eclissato
by Acionna
Summary: he had created a monster, only he didn't see it. it was only when he was toppled from his throne, did he realize exactly how desperately it needed to be destroyed. and as you all know, desperate times call for desperate measures; kaishin; au;


Title: eclissato;  
Fandom: Detective Conan/Magic Kaito;  
Story Pairings: Kaito/Shinichi (for the moment);  
Started: 13.08.2012  
Warnings: death (hey, this is Detective Conan), language, blood, violence;  
Chapter Warnings: language; many POV changes; em-dash abuse;

Disclaimer: Don't own, never will;

Note: This fic will be quite AU, and _possibly_ dark, so if that bothers you, then it is _with pleasure_ that I introduce you to the back button.

It is a **huge** what-if type of story which spawned when I was reading a fic where the reason why Shinichi was so surrounded by death was because he was the one doing the killing, and it struck me: _what if_ Shinichi was Anokata? Doesn't really make sense, but, aside from creating a huge amount of questions, it explains part of the reason why Vermouth is Anokata's favorite (friend of his mom and all); it would also explain the whole Sherlock thing (4869; he's a huge SH fan), and the Night Baron virus (his father's books). Perhaps the goal of the Organization has deviated from what it was originally meant to be? The original goal could be to kill off evil (because, it has been implied several times that Shinichi doesn't always see '_the law_' as '_justice_'), and he might go to extremes to reach what he could consider 'justice.'

I hate long notes at the beginning of stories, and this one is gradually becoming longer than what of the story I've already typed up, so I'll stop it here. Might put something on my profile, on livejournal, maybe at the beginning of next chapter. Really, I'll put it wherever I see fit at that time. Sorry about that.

* * *

_he had created a monster, only he didn't see it. __it was only when he was toppled from his throne, did he realize exactly how desperately it needed to be __destroyed. and as you all know, desperate times call for desperate measures_

Chapter I

_e voi siete; chi sei veramente?_

* * *

It was a beautiful Monday morning, or at least as beautiful as a Monday morning could be, because, of course, it was _Monday_. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and as always, Aoko was yelling. _My morning just couldn't be complete without Aoko's loud voice,_ Kaito thought, annoyed, as he found himself being woken up, for the umpteenth time, by Aoko cursing outside his bedroom door. He let out a groan as he shoved the covers off of himself and swung his legs over the bed.

"Aoko, what're you doing here?" He let out a yawn and stretched, his shirt lifting up, exposing his midriff. He smirked as Aoko rapidly turned away from him. "It's only eigh- wait it's eight already?" He doubled back to the clock on his bedside table in disbelief.

"No shit," Aoko replied, rolling her eyes. "You're lucky it's a Monday. We have an assembly right now, and they're not going to take attendance until afterwards." She adjusted the bag slung over her shoulder and headed back down the stairs, as Kaito dashed to the bathroom, uniform in hand.

He chastised himself for forgetting to set his alarm. The heist last night ran late — because Hakuba had come back from England; just his luck — so he had forgotten all about it by the time he got home. This had been happening more often lately. He was getting slow. He barely managed to dodge Aoko's Mop of Death© a week ago, and he had fallen asleep in his KID uniform more than once this month. He was overworking himself, and he knew it.

He ducked his head under the shower, washing away the sweat that had built up overnight. He winced in pain as the hot water stung a large gash on his hand he wasn't even aware he had. _Damn. That's going to be hard to hide from Hakuba, and makeup will make it sting. _He grimaced as he cleaned the cut as best as he could under the running water, and hoped it didn't look as bad as he thought it did.

He shut off the water when it had begun cooling down, and quickly dried himself off with a towel._ No need to make Aoko any more upset than she needs to be. _He grimaced as he remembered several bruises she had made when he had incurred her wrath. He threw on his gakuran, and dashed out of the bathroom and down the stairs.

"Aoko, let's go, what're you waiting for?" He stopped at the kitchen door, where he saw Aoko and his mother chatting, to make a 'come along' gesture.

"Uhm, Kaito, aren't you forgetting something?" She gestured towards the kitchen counter — or more precisely, the food on the counter— and rolled her eyes, obviously exasperated with him. He had a blank look on his face, and blinked several times at the question, earning a worried look on Aoko's face. "Breakfast. You have just forgotten- Kaito, are you okay?"

_Damn, I forgot about that._ He looked at Aoko with an innocent face. "Aoko, didn't you notice? I've put on a few pounds lately, so I'm going on a diet." He pinched the non-existant fat on his thighs, and pouted at her. "If I gain any more weight, I'll look absolutely _dreadful_ in your uniform." With that, he dashed out of the room, preparing himself for the oncoming assault. He spared a glance back, and saw Aoko clenching and unclenching her fists. She was about to grab the mop she knew would be in the closet behind her, when Kaito's mother threw her a fish. _That traitor! __I _knew _it was a smart move to run._

* * *

"We're here, Amaretto." She glanced over at Shinichi with a smirk. He made no indication to acknowledge that he had heard her, but she knew he had. It was a given. He was tense, eyes staring forward, absorbing information. He was always aware of his surroundings in a way that few people were. It was being filed away unconsiously, but he had definitely heard her. Moments after she had spoken, his eyes suddenly darted towards her, as if he had, for an instant, forgotten that she was there. _He probably had_, she thought._ Too busy drowning in his own self-pity. _She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"That's wrong, 'mother.'" He faced towards her. "My name is Conan, have you forgotten already?" Head tilted to the side, he looked the epitome of childish innocence. Too bad she knew better. She fixed her hair using the rear view mirror in the car — Shinichi's Virage Volante; she would have driven them using her motorcycle, only he didn't agree, the bastard — and fixed him with a glare.

"We should get this over with quickly. I managed to buy myself some time, but they won't stay distracted for long. I don't want to give them any more reason to be suspicious of me. God knows they already resented me for being your 'favorite' back before... you know," she said, gesturing to him. She reached over to her left to open the door, and stopped when she felt his hand grab her sleeve. She gave him a questioning look — eyebrow raised, head tilted slightly — and he bit his lip in reply.

"I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate your help, Sharon, despite how risky this is for you. I know that if it weren't for the fact that you were friends with my mother, you wouldn't be helping me, but I'm still grateful." He flushed and looked away, and in that moment he actually looked like the twelve year old he was supposed to be. _Cute. _"So, erm, yeah, that's about it. Come on, then." He dashed out of the passenger seat door — when did he manage to get his seatbelt unbuckled and his door open anyways? — and up to the entrance of the school.

"That wasn't much of a thank you, you know?" She called after him. "And it's okaa-san to you, young man!" He stopped mid—sprint, and pivoted on his heels.

"Well, it's the best you'll get from me!" he yelled back, sticking his tongue out like a little kid. She often wondered what exactly their relationship was. Sometimes, he was a friend to her. She wasn't one to ramble on and on about her feelings to people, but he could read her well, and despite being inconsiderate at times, he was there for her. Other times, like now, he felt like a younger brother, or a son. She was an only child, and had no children, so she treated him as if he were a kid sometimes. On rare occasions — and thank god for that; she had no idea how to deal with him when he was like this — he was a stranger. Closed off from the world, cold and depressing like she was when they first met. She once asked him what he thought about when he acted like this. His answer wasn't one she wished to hear.

"Sometimes I wonder if what I'm doing is right, if maybe it would be better if I were naive again. Maybe then I wouldn't have to feel as guilty." He refused to speak to anyone for the whole week following that conversation.

* * *

"Class, we'll be having a new student today." Kaito heard his teacher's voice from inside the room. _Damn, I didn't make it. _He spared a glance inside through the partially-opened door, and noticed Aoko sitting there without a care in the world. _Sure looks like _she_ did, though. _If he was going to be late anyways, he might as well wash the fish out of his hair first. He grimaced as he ran a hand through his tousled locks, and promised himself that he was going to get Aoko back for that.

He pivoted on his heels and walked towards the washroom. He didn't manage to make it there, though, as he bumped into -more like tripped over- a young boy. _Today is really not my day._ He got up, dusting himself off, and offered a hand to the younger male — looked to be about 10 or so; what's he doing in the high school division? — he had tripped over. He muttered something, and it took a moment for Kaito to register it as an English curse word.

"I'm sorry about that," he said to the child. "I wasn't paying attention — you know I'd make a horrible driver? — and you're quite tiny, see? Here, lemme help you up." He blinked slowly at that - probably doing some translating of his own - and took the offered hand.

"That's okay. Neither was I," he replied in unexpectedly fluent Japanese. The boy grinned sheepishly, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know if you're aware, but you reek of fish." He gave Kaito a once-over, as the teen winced.

"Yeah, heh, it's a long story," Kaito said, chuckling nervously. He didn't want to remember that particular story for a long time. Looking down at the child, it occured to him that he was out of place. "Erm, kid, are you lost? This is the high school division."

He blinked several times and opened his mouth to say something, before someone behind him shouted something.

"Conan!" The boy spun around, to come face to face with a blonde woman, who looked to be about thirty or so. She said something in English, and Kaito assumed that she was his — Conan's? — guardian. Several questioning looks were sent his way, from the both of them, and he heard the English word for 'fish' mentioned more than once, flinching each time it was said.

"Excuse me, if you don't mind, could you direct my son and I to Mamiya-sensei's classroom?" The blonde turned to him with a smile on her face that would have seemed sincere, if Kaito didn't know any better. However, he did know better, and he could have sworn that she asked him that because she knew he was skipping her class. _Didn't even get the chance to clean my hair yet, ugh._

"Err, yeah, it's right down that hallway," he said, pointing behind himself with a smile not unlike the one on her face. "First classroom around the corner. You can't miss it." He was about to continue walking when he felt a tugging on his sleeve.

"I'm not a kid, Kuroba-kun, and you'd do well to remember that. I happen to be in your class, so please take care of me," he said, with a devious smile rivaling that of KID's in terms of intimidation. It was so unlike the previous grin he had given him, that he wondered for a second if the boy was bipolar, or had multiple personality disorder. He bowed, then turned around to follow his mother — who looked nothing like him, although their eyes were a similar piercing blue — back towards the classroom.

_That is one creepy little kid. _As if he had heard the thought, he turned back and threw Kaito a wink.

_Really creepy._

* * *

_tbc._


End file.
